Sparking the Flame
by Serpant Lake
Summary: After the demise of Voldemort, our favourite Potions Master finds his 'mind bewitched and senses ensnared'. What he thought was a 'bird-brained' prophesy in his youth, has suddenly, inexplicably, flared to life. SnapeOC
1. It has to start somewhere

Severus Snape wandered through Diagon alley, bored out of his mind. It was the beginning of summer holidays, and he had nothing to do. Well, technically it was the beginning of whatever he was supposed to be doing for the rest of his life, but he didn't have any immediate plans so he preferred to think of it as just a holiday. He meandered through the various shops, picking up a potion ingredient here, a book there.

He scowled and glared at the couples passing by, giving a particularly nasty stare to a young witch who had bumped into him. This was the reason he didn't like shopping. Too many people. He hated people. In general, they were stupid, and he'd yet to find anyone who could prove him wrong.

Wandering a little farther, he turned down Knockturn Alley. It was a place that the faint of heart should not go. It was filled with strange and dangerous things. It was half a den of thieves, half a market place. It was where he went when the simple shops failed to hold his interest.

Severus thought that even Knockturn would bore him today, the restless feeling he had had all morning was starting to grow by leaps and bounds. He spotted something interesting though, and walked quickly towards it. In such a rush to get to the strange tent-like structure, he knocked over a cart in his haste. The old woman shrieked in anger and quickly began gathering up the cracked, chipped fingernails that he had accidentally scattered . He waved his wand with a snap and a muttered charm, and cleaned up the mess he had made. Unfortunately he wasn't watching where he was going and ran into her other basket.

Full of hair.

Thoroughly disgusted at this new turn of events, and a headache developing from the witch screaming in his ear about ruined potion ingredients, Severus stumbled away from her, leaving the woman to clean up. He ducked around a corner and started picking the long, greasy chunks of straggly hair off his cloak. Following some annoying unwritten rule, all the hairs seemed to be white, directly contrasting the pitch black of his clothes.

Sighing, he opted for a charm to solve his dilemma, and finally made his way to the tent, sliding unnoticed past the witch whose cart he'd overturned, and into the tent.

He had expected it to be bright, as all the shops were, but the interior of the tent was shrouded in shadows and a pale smoke hung in the air. His eyes adjusted to the dim light that forced it's entrance through the material and the flap of the tent. When he could finally see he noticed that this also didn't fit the normal style of shops, as there was a single table covered in a black cloth.

He moved closer to inspect the table, and saw that the cloth was actually covered in little gold stars, and he reached out a hand to touch it.

"Please don't touch."

Severus's head snapped up, and he snatched his hand back. There was a woman who he hadn't noticed before. She was actually been sitting right in front of him, but with the darkness of the tent, her black clothes, and the shadow she'd been sitting in, she was almost invisible.

He studied her carefully, sizing her up. She honestly didn't look like much, and her eyes were strangely unfocused. He gave her a glare, but she didn't react. His face softened from his normal unfriendly look, and waved a hand in front of her face. She didn't react to that either.

"You know Severus, without that scowl you're rather nice looking."

He blushed, but the scowl took up its normal position on his features. He knew that he wasn't good looking, he was much too thin, his nose too big… he could go on, but he hated how he looked enough already.

"What is this place, old woman?" Severus snapped at her, trying to cover his embarrassment.

She smiled, and pulled out what looked like a large glass ball, and set it in an indentation on the table. He stared disbelievingly at her. He'd heard about this sort of thing…it was very similar to divination, but it was muggle. The difference was that the muggles believed they were actually doing some form of magic, while divination WAS a valid form of magic, even if he thought it was a waste of time.

"You want me to tell your fortune, Severus?" the woman inquired, with a slight edge of impatience to her voice, "It's 10 pounds. I don't know what the current exchange is, but I know you'll pay me the right amount."

He blinked at her. She really was a muggle, and one who seemed to believe she possessed some form of magic. He had time to kill, money to burn, and a restlessness to ease, so he decided to chance it.

He moved slightly closer, and tossed a bunch of galleons at her, and waited. She didn't collect them, but waved her hand over the ball. He was surprised when it filled with smoke that swirled around in mesmerizing patterns.

She stared into it, and then held her hand out to him. He stared at it as if it was something foreign, but eventually laid his hand in hers. Her eyes seemed to glow with a greenish light, and when she started speaking, her voice had a strange, unearthly quality about it.

_"After the dog reveals his true coat,_

_A rat's guile's will prove fruitful._

_A man with a hooked beak will be the one of few,_

_He will have lost the ones that cared._

_Hiding in the shadows, _

_A thief of secrets and knowledge_

_The pawn of two, _

_A slave to the cause._

_Numb is the heart that beats within;_

_Cold and callous,_

_Heartless without._

_A heart made of wood and soaked in pitch-_

_A phoenix shall spark the flame."_

He blinked at the brightness of the sun as he left the tent, squinting as his eyes adjusted again. He turned to look back at the tent, half expecting it to have disappeared on him, but it was exactly where he had left it.

Muttering something about crazy old muggles and wasting money, he disappeared into the crowd, intent on making his way home with his purchases.


	2. Meeting the new victims, er, teachers

Snape stalked down the hall, his customary black robes billowing out behind him. It had been almost 19 years since he'd heard that stupid, worthless prophesy from the blind muggle woman - a prophesy that had since proved to be completely true. He'd helped defeat the Dark Lord, Voldemort, and was slowly going nutters from boredom. True, he preferred boredom to the torture, but the fact remained that he was still bored.

Although he'd never admit it, he missed the company of the teachers. He'd complained, snapped, and been down right nasty to them, but they were all he'd had. He had mourned in his own way for the deaths of Rolanda Hooch and Pomona Sprout, and for the teachers who had merely retired.

His irritability rose at the thought of not having them around during the upcoming school year and he stopped watching where he was going. It wasn't a big problem, he had wandered the castle for large amounts of time like this, lost in his own mind, and he never ran into anything.

Of course, he ran into someone while he was doing so.

"Watch where you're going you stupid…Albus." Snape snapped angrily at the person he'd walked into before he realized who exactly he was talking to.

"Ah yes, Severus, you're quite right, I should be paying more attention to where I'm going. However, I seem to have accomplished my goal. Which was of course, finding you." Dumbledore said as cheerily as always. "I've been looking for you for the last little while, for there is a staff meeting that you were supposed to attend. It's over, but a few of the teachers are still around, as they wished to meet you."

At the mention of the new teachers, Snape stiffened. The scowl the muggle woman had pointed out was now firmly engraved in his features and he had it on full force at the poor headmaster. Dumbledore, however, was either oblivious to the fact he was being glared at, or was so used to it, it no longer affected him.

Either way, he had taken Snape by the elbow and was gently guiding him to the staff room located near his personal office.

It wasn't very far away, and they were soon there, in the brightly lit, cozy room. Snape had never been particularly fond of it, with its squishy armchairs (bad for the posture), roaring fire (too hot), and the fact that it usually contained the teachers he didn't like. Not that you could tell which was which.

As they walked in, a few unfamiliar faces were sitting in the armchairs by the fire. He had expected this, and briefly wondered who would be replacing who. Not that he cared, and he'd find out soon enough.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and the teachers in the chairs seemed to snap to attention. There were two women and a man, and they waited expectantly for Dumbledore to say something. Instead of talking, he gently pushed Snape forward almost into the new teachers. Snape scowled at Dumbledore, and straightened his robes automatically, then shifted his glare to the people in front of him.

The younger woman was as tall as he was, but very tan where he was pale, with leaf green eyes and thick black hair. She looked a bit nervous to be under his intense stare, but she managed a weak smile and held out a hand to him.

"Hi! My name is Raven. I'm the new herbology teacher." Her nervous smile seemed to gain strength as she talked, "You're Severus Snape? The potions master? I've been told that we'll be working together a bit, because of the potions…ingredients…. I'll…" she faltered when she realized his scowl hadn't changed a bit, and she was still on the receiving end of his death glare.

She stopped talking and pressed her lips together nervously as she looked back at Dumbledore then back to Snape. Dumbledore gave her a warm smile and she looked back at Snape. His glare had traveled down to her proffered hand, with its short, slightly dirty nails, and was now staring at them in disgust. She blushed and snatched her hand back when she realized he wasn't going to take it, and fingered the corner of the book she was holding. She backed up a little, and sank back into the chair she'd previously occupied, opening her book.

Snape turned his glare to the next victim, er, teacher. This one was a man, who looked vaguely familiar. He was short, and stocky, with windblown bright blue hair. Another smile from this one, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.

"Hey Professor Snape! Remember me?" The man announced proudly. "I was in your class a few years ago!" Snape studied him and a name suddenly reattached itself to the man's face.

"Mr. Nav. I hope the you know more about teaching the subject you've been hired for than you knew about potions. As I recall you melted a cauldron at least once a class, and it wasn't always your own." Snape replied nastily.

"It's Simon now, Severus. I'm your colleague! Besides, I teach flying. It was always my best subject."

"You will address me as Professor Snape, Nav, and you are not my colleague. I reserve that title for people with some sort of intelligence." Snape told him as his mind screamed "Ten points from Ravenclaw!"

Simon Nav looked hurt, but he didn't say anything further. He looked over to the last remaining teacher and gave her an "I told you so" look. Snape assumed that his… reputation… preceded him. Not that it mattered; these fluffy headed imbeciles would soon learn that he was to be left alone. In any case he still had one more teacher to be introduced to and then he could leave.

The third teacher, another woman, looked extremely nervous to be under his glare because of the earlier exchanges. She seemed to suddenly gain confidence, and held out her hand to him, ignoring the fact that he had earlier glared at Raven's.

"My name is Amy, Professor. I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Thanks to you though, it seems that my class isn't as needed as it was in the past years. I hope I do a good job though."

Snape studied the woman. She was almost as pale as he was, with bright blue eyes, and thin, pale blond hair. She was giving him a toothy smile, showing her slightly blindingly bright teeth.

For some reason, he instantly didn't like her. Not that he really liked anyone, but that was beside the point.

Having fulfilled the requirement of meeting the teachers, he turned to leave and return to the halls and his thoughts, but Dumbledore again, caught his elbow again, and turned him back around.

"Won't you join us for some dinner, Severus? It's almost time to eat, and the house elves have prepared some delicious roast beef with a demi-glaze I've been told." He said in that tone of voice that meant Snape really had no choice.

Dumbledore pulled the silent man to the table that was located nearer to the large window in the room, and sat him down in a random spot. The other teachers sat on either side of him, making him feel slightly trapped, except for the herbology one, who sat at the foot of the table, still absorbed in her book.

Truth be told, Raven wasn't absorbed in her book. She was slightly shaken by the intensity of Snape's glare. It wasn't like she'd done anything wrong. She couldn't have, she'd just met him!

She sneaked a look at him from the corner of her eye. He was frowning at the plate in front of him, and looked decidedly uncomfortable with the seating arrangement. He looked up, and at her just as she looked back at her book. She tried to go back to reading, but she'd been reading the same paragraph since she sat back down in the chair. Raven sincerely hoped that no one had noticed that she'd never flipped the page.

The food appeared before her, and she dug into the beef, which was, like all the food the house elves prepared absolutely delicious. She'd already gained a bit of weight while she was here, and would most likely gain more. She had always been a very thin, delicate looking girl, even if she really wasn't, and the extra weight pleased her. She now actually needed a bra, which was just an added bonus.

As she finished her plate, she sat back in her chair and stared out the window, which overlooked a rather large lake. She'd been told that merpeople, a giant squid, and other creatures inhabited it. Raven had really wanted to meet the merfolk, but was told that they weren't hospitable, and that it was a bad idea. It looked so calm and clear that she could barely believe that anything lived in it, but as she trusted Dumbledore, she believed it.

Realizing that nothing was happening outside, she turned her attention back to the teachers, who were eating away. Simon, the flying teacher, was about her age, and was practically devouring his food. She wondered briefly if he was even swallowing, because it didn't look like he had enough time in between bites, and talking. He was involved in animated conversation with Amy, however one sided that conversation may be. They were talking around the potion master, who still looked disgusted at the arrangement.

Where Simon ate like he was facing a ten-year famine, Snape ate with a slow elegance, somehow smoothly dodging elbows, and moving hands while he was doing it.

Raven's eyes drifted to Dumbledore who had bits of dinner stuck in his long beard, and he smiled merrily at her. It took her a few seconds to realize that his mouth wasn't moving because he was chewing, but because he was talking to her.

"-ing your dinner?" He asked her.

"Oh… pardon me… My mind wandered…" She blushed lightly, which was barely visible on her tanned skin, and snapped her fingers and whistled, "Here mind, c'mere girl! I need you!"

Dumbledore and Simon laughed heartily at her face-saving gesture, but Amy gave her a disapproving look. Snape ignored her.

"I'm sorry Professor, would you mind repeating yourself?" Raven asked politely, regretting that she wasn't paying attention in the first place.

"Of course, dear girl! I asked you if you were enjoying your dinner? And, please, call me Albus."

"Oh! It was wonderful… Albus." She hesitated for a second over using his first name, but continued, "The food here is much tastier than I'm used to. I can grow everything I need, but I'm not much use when cooking with it."

"I'm sure the house elves would be delighted to teach you how to cook, should you desire to learn." Dumbledore consoled her, snapping a finger. Instantly a house elf appeared by his side, and he explained, much to Raven's embarrassment, her ineptitude at cooking. The elf nodded once, then, giving her a large smile, it disappeared.

"They have agreed to teach you, all you have to do is make your way to the kitchens, and they will help you at any time."

She smiled faintly at him, not wanting to tell him that she had no interest in cooking, but he appeared oblivious to her reluctance.

"Now then, I'm sure you'll all want to turn in early tonight, as tomorrow, we'll have students!" Dumbledore announced, as if this were something new, and not something that happened every year. He stood as the plates magically cleared, and walked out of the room, humming happily.

Raven collected her book, and was halfway out the door, when she was rudely pushed out of the way by a large black shape, which turned out to be Snape. He walked quickly down one hall, his robes flying out behind him.

Muttering to herself about rude men, Raven wandered back to her room, and quickly changed for bed, snuggling under the fluffy comforter, and was soon sleeping peacefully.


	3. Fighting is for losers

Snape was pacing around in the dungeons as he waited for Raven to deliver some needed potions ingredients. Poppy needed a stock of lung-drought draughts for the upcoming year. There was always a student or two who fell into the lake while crossing it and breathed in a bit of water. While not life threatening, it was dangerous to have the water in there for too long, so he had been asked to brew some more of the draught.

The girl, however, was late. He'd been waiting all morning, and she should have been and gone by this point.

He shuddered imperceptibly, remembering how she'd extended her hand, as if she expected him to take it. For one, it wasn't the way things were done, and for another, her dirty nails reminded him of the cart full of nails in Knockturn alley. He'd had a phobia of them since that day he'd knocked over the cart.

He had to admit though, nails aside, she was very pretty woman. A perfect fan of lashes framed her large eyes, and the green was almost hypnotic. It was a bit odd that they would be that way. He'd figure out why later.

He could hear faint footsteps coming down the hall, and he scowled darkly at the door where she would be coming in. Sure enough, she appeared, carrying a large basket of gillyweed on her hip, and a book in the other hand. She smiled at him when she walked in, a piece of card between her teeth. She slipped the card in between the pages of her book and snapped it shut.

"Here's your gillyweed, Professor. I'm sorry I didn't deliver it earlier, I got a bit lost in the halls." She apologized contritely.

"Maybe next time you should find yourself a map." He snapped at her, and pulled the basket out of her grasp.

"Hey!" She protested, "It's not my fault I'm directionally challenged!"

"If you knew that, you should have gotten a guide." He hissed, thrown off by her protest.

"And that's NOT all for you!" She said, and snatched back the basket. Taking a bag out of it, she tossed it at him. He caught it perfectly out of midair, and held it closer to his body.

"Be more careful." He snapped angrily at her, "I can't use damaged ingredients.

Though, with a gardener like you, I'll have to check them for quality anyway."

"Excuse me? Say that again you overgrown cave bat!"

"What, your ears are as useful as your sense of direction, you dirt grubber?"

WHACK

Snape's head snapped back as her open palm connected with the side of his face leaving a dark red imprint on his delicate skin. Raven turned on her heels and stalked out of the dungeon with Snape watching her go in disbelief.

Shaking off the hit, Snape opened his stores and pulled out a pain salve and carefully applied it to his abused skin. He could barely believe she'd slapped him. He'd pegged her to be a much meeker person. He collected the gillyweed he'd dropped and began slicing it up to create the draught.

He was always more at peace when he was working, and he didn't notice Raven sneak back in to collect the book she'd dropped. She stopped for a moment and watched him mince up the gillyweed with exact, perfect cuts. She found herself looking at the mark she'd left on him. She'd even scratched his cheek with her nails.

Good, she thought vengefully as she turned to leave again, he deserves it. Calling me a dirt grubber! Serves him right.

Hours later, the dinner bell rang and the teachers collected to sit down before the students arrived. Dumbledore was cheerfully setting place cards in front of each plate as Raven walked in. Snape was already seated, and he and Raven glared at one another as she walked over to find her place.

She read each name card, looking for her own as she walked slowly by. She stopped short as she realized she'd been placed right next to Snape. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, she sat down next to him, and edged away from him, closer to Dumbledore. When the headmaster sat down next to her, she gave him a pleading look, her eyes desperately begging him to switch her somewhere else. He didn't seem to notice and started a lively conversation with a small, wizened man on his other side.

She sighed and tried not to look at Snape, but it was hard not to, because the bright red mark she had given him that morning had faded... into a light purple bruise. She was thankful he wasn't paying any attention to her, and allowed herself to look at him for a moment. His large hooked nose was the most obvious feature, and his shoulder length, greasy looking hair. His features seemed to be twisted into a permanent scowl, and Raven wondered what he looked like without it. On the whole, he looked like a horribly disagreeable man.

She'd been a little too intent on studying, and didn't notice that she'd realized he was scowling because he had turned to face her.

"Something on my face?" He sneered at her, giving her a glare.

"Besides the grease from your hair? Nothing." She replied semi-innocently. "You should really consider washing it once in a while."

"I'll keep my hair whichever way I wish. You should follow your own advice, but

I suggest something to keep yours from looking like a dead cat."

"Dead cat?" She demanded indignantly.

"Shhh!" Another teacher interjected, "The sorting is about to start!"

Raven looked appropriately mollified and quieted down while the hat sang a song. The two teachers were quiet during the rest of it, and soon the sorting was over. As the food appeared, Snape seemed to decided that he was far from finished. He leaned over to her and whispered, "I'm sorry, I meant rat's nest."

Snape watched in satisfaction as the pretty young teacher stiffened in anger, and her hands tightened over the utensils she was holding. She glared at him, her green eyes flashing in anger.

"Better to have hair like a rat's nest than to smell the way you do." She hissed back at him. "I'm surprised you haven't suffocated from your own stench."

"I wear a charm that mimics the scent of people around me, you smell yourself."

He smirked in satisfaction as her expression shifted to one of outraged shock.

"Smell this!" She shot back at him, flicking a spoonful of mashed potatoes on his face. "Oh, look at that," she continued, "The colour of the potatoes matches your skin tone. Pale and yellow-y. Too bad that colour's not in style this season, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll get it right one of these days."

The silence in the Great Hall was deafening, and Raven realized that the entire student body was staring at her. The fact that everyone had been staring at them during the entire fight hadn't registered with either of them.

He took up a spoonful of creamed corn and flicked it back at her, but she ducked and it hit Dumbledore smack in the face.

Snape froze. He stared at the headmaster as the corn dripped down his face and onto his beard and brightly coloured robes. Dumbledore rewarded him with a large smile and threw some carrots at him.

Years of being a spy and being under attack gave him the reflexes to dodge the attack, and it hit the Simon.

At this point, all the students, as well as half the teachers were staring in disbelief at what was happening at the head table. A few snickers and titters were muffled from the back of the hall.

Suddenly, Simon screamed, "Food fight!" and started tossing what remained on his plate at the students. The hall erupted with motion, food flying through the air as students dodged their dinners. Cries of protest were heard from some of the students as they ran for cover, and laughter rang out as the fight raged on.

In the midst of it all, Snape and Raven glared silently at each other, mentally blaming the other for the fight.


End file.
